Scream Fortress VI
by Bardock Lives
Summary: A short little drabble on Halloween.


"We aren't getting paid for zis," Spy griped under his breath, irritably puffing at his cigarette. "Why did I even _agree _to zis?"

"Hush up, herr Spy." The Medic caroled back cheerfully, wiping down his Medigun with a damp white cloth. "It's Hallowe'en, und it's a Mann Co. tradition to celebrate by dying under ze influence of supernatural forces. Und I zink it's really quite _fun, _once you get down to it. Besides, it's a carnival. A dark, evil, _magic _carnival, und I've never been to a carnival before. It vill be fun!" He laughed to himself, abandoning the Medigun in his lap in favor of stroking his ever-present dove. Archimedes fluffed his feathers and rose into the Medic's touch, beady black eyes half-closed with pleasure. His wings adjusted themselves, and the Medic's unconsciously mirrored. Two white wings fluttered on the doctor's own back, small and completely impractical. The rest of the team had collectively decided to not ask him whether they were really attached to him or not. The Medic had a habit of going all-out for Halloween, and it would surprise no one if he had surgically stuck wings on his back.

"Certainly. Deadly, magical carnivals. Fun for ze whole family." The Frenchman pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, attempting to fight off the urge to talk sense into the Medic. He looked around at the mostly empty respawn room, vainly hoping someone with some sanity in tact would spontaneously appear. "When are our charming colleagues joining us?" He asked blandly. "If zey take any longer I zink old age will kill me before ze BLU team gets zeir shot at it."

"Zey said zey were getting zeir costumes ready." The Medic's shrug is almost dismissive. "Face it, Spy, ve_ all _love Halloween, vether ve want to admit to it or not." His voice was light, almost teasing, and he shot a smile in the gentleman's direction. "You're wearing something too, are you not? That _cape _is certainly not part of your regular attire… And from what I've seen, your _teeth _are looking a little extra sharp." His smile widened. "How cliche, herr; a vampire?"

"You have wings." He said bluntly. "A winged man is hardly original; I believe some societies call zem 'angels'. Zey're quite popular amongst some large religions."

"Oh, hush. No man has ever attached _wings _to themselves before." He said cheerily. Well, that answered _that _question; the Medic really had given himself wings after all. "Besides, I am _not _an angel."

"Just the everyday, average man with wings sprouting out of his back." Spy confirmed wryly.

Scout came charging in, clawed talons scraping against the ground as he sprinted into the respawn room, Soldier screaming as he hurtled after him. "_THAT IS LIEUTENANT BITES, AND YOU WILL GIVE HIM BACK!" _

"You gotta catch me, you slow bastard!" Scout hollered back, the raccoon squirming in his arms. Spy paused to take in the scene: Scout, dressed like a chicken, cradling an unhappy creature in his arms while he dodged and ducked to escape Soldier, who had dressed suspiciously like a vampire slayer. He had a hammer and stakes on his belt, as well as crosses where his grenades used to go. A battered hat sat jauntily on his head, a bandana and small scars on his face. 

"Herr Scout, give Soldier his raccoon back!" Medic thundered, getting up from the crate he'd been sitting on. When the runner did not, he grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to the ground. Soldier fell on top of him and wrestled the furry beast from the Scout's grip, loudly proclaiming his victory.

"Where is everyone else?" Spy said, coldly refraining from joining their antics. "Sniper, Heavy, Demoman, Pyro, and Engineer are all missing."

"They're gettin' ready!" Scout piped indignantly from beneath Soldier's boot. "Soldier, ya dick, get off! You're gonna fuck up the feathers, an' this took a long time to get together!"

Soldier reluctantly removed his foot, only after a nod from Medic. The German smiled to himself as he took in the Soldier's costume, then shot a look back at the Frenchman. "Ve have ze vampire und ze vampire hunter," He chuckled to himself.

Soldier gave the Spy a cursory glance and a short nod, before returning his attention to the doctor. "If he turns out to be an enemy Spy, can I stake him?" The grin that started on his face was hopeful, and he reached for one of the crosses on his sash. Spy opened his mouth to protest, but the Medic cut him off first.

"Stick to blowing people up, ja? Besides, ve all know zat rockets are more effective at killing vampires zan stakes zrough ze heart." Medic nodded. This time the Scout was readying to protest, but the doctor elbowed him and shook his head harshly, his reproachful glare mirrored by the Spy. Soldier tilted his head, still grinning, and started to ask another question, but his words were gently cut off by the Medic.

"Let's just vait for ze ozzers, hmm? Zen we can _all _stake people zrough the heart."


End file.
